


Put My Guns in the Ground

by FagurFiskur



Series: 30 day cheesy tropes challenge [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss (kind of), Heaven, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Am I dreaming?" he asks. He feels Cas shake his head and, oh. "So I'm dead."</p><p>"Yes," Cas mutters.</p><p>The way Cas' breath hits his neck makes it kind of hard to concentrate, but Dean's got more questions.  "Will I die tomorrow? I mean, did I die... you know what I mean."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put My Guns in the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> 30 day cheesy trope challenge: #16 - Seven minutes in heaven
> 
> [The challenge](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge)
> 
> This technically counts, right? Title taken from Knockin' on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan
> 
> (Spoilers for season finale, use rot13.com to decipher) Fb guvf srryf n ybg pehryre va yvtug bs gur frnfba svanyr. V jnf cerggl zhpu rkcrpgvat Qrna gb ghea vagb n qrzba (n ybg bs crbcyr ba ghzoye jrer cerqvpgvat vg) ohg vg znqr zr uryyn rkpvgrq sbe arkg frnfba naq sbe f10 fcrphyngvba svp. Gubhtu abj V'z jvfuvat V unqa'g nyernql qbar gur natry/qrzba cebzcg

The clock is striking twelve.

"You know, this could be our last night on earth," Dean says, in what he hopes is a casual tone of voice.

Under normal circumstances, he would never be pulling a line like that with Cas. Or any line, really, because he's not stupid. He knows Cas is too good for him, but as it may legitimately be their last night on earth, he feels like he should at least try. If Cas rejects him, at least he won't have to live with it for long.

"We have been up against impossible odds before," Cas replies. Completely oblivious, of fucking course.

"I guess," Dean says. Might as well power through. If all else fails, he can just try to shove his tongue down Cas' throat and hope he won't be pushed away. "Any idea how you wanna spend it?"

"I..." Cas trails off and straightens, eyes focusing intently on Dean.

Dean, who's been on the receiving end of plenty of Cas' stares through the years, is taken back by the intensity of it. He's about to ask Cas what's wrong, when he's suddenly backed against the wall. He barely gets out a surprised grunt before Cas' lips are on his. He's not so much kissing Dean as he is _mauling_ him, and it's kind of painful to be honest. Their teeth are knocking together and Cas is pressing too close, making it difficult to breathe.

Cas seems to realize this, as he eases up a bit and then their lips are gliding together, maybe not smoothly (it's still too desperate to be anything but messy) but it's _good_. Dean almost forgets that nothing about this scenario makes any sense until Cas pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he says, and all Dean can think is _why_? "You should have been making the first move, I know, but I was growing impatient. We don't have much time. Seven minutes, to be precise."

Something clicks in the back of Dean's brain.

"This has happened before."

Cas doesn't answer, but lowers his head to start sucking marks onto Dean's neck. Dean doesn't really need his confirmation anyway, not as much as he needs Cas' lips and tongue somewhere on him.

"Am I dreaming?" he asks. He feels Cas shake his head and, oh. "So I'm dead."

"Yes," Cas mutters.

The way Cas' breath hits his neck makes it kind of hard to concentrate, but Dean's got more questions. "Will I die tomorrow? I mean, did I die... you know what I mean."

Cas takes a lot longer to answer this time. He's got one hand on Dean's shoulder, the thumb softly stroking his collarbone. It's nice. Familiar, even if Dean can't remember this ever happening before.

"Yes."

Dean licks his lips. "Huh. Didn't think I'd end up here."

"I would never have allowed you to go back to hell," Cas says, sounding kind of insulted at the notion.

"There's always purgatory."

Cas' face is still buried in his neck, but Dean's got the feeling he's being glared at.

"Wait," Dean says, something occurring to him. "Why did you say we don't have much time?"

"Sam will interrupt us soon, and the memory will end."

"So just follow me to the next one."

"I would," Cas says, kissing Dean's neck softly. "I have before." Another kiss. "But I don't have the time right now. "

"What is this then, some heavenly booty call?"

"I think you're overestimating what I am capable of in seven minutes."

"Not the point," Dean says. "Why do you not have the time? Have somewhere more important to be?"

Cas hesitates, then pulls back, eyes flickering towards Dean's lips before focusing on his eyes. "There are still battles to be won, in heaven and on earth. I may no longer have followers, but I have a responsibility to do what I can."

"What battles?" Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. "They're not your concern anymore."

"I could help," Dean insists, irritated.

"I know." Cas smiles; it's a small and sad thing, and Dean wants to lean in and chase it away. "But you have earned your rest. Even if I could put you back on earth in your old body, I wouldn't. I couldn't do that to you."

"So instead you're just gonna leave me stuck here."

"This isn't a prison, Dean." Somewhere outside in the hallway, a door closes, and Cas glances at the clock. "I have to go."

"Don't you dare-"

But Cas has already flown off. Dean huffs and lets his head fall against the wall with a dull thunk.

The time is seven minutes past twelve.


End file.
